Doorway, Azrou, Middle Atlas, Morocco

We were up a little early. When we went for breakfast we met Robert, who owns our road (guesthouse) and had a long conversation, the main theme of which was the attempt to make sense of who in their right mind would vote for Donald Trump and why. I had egg tagine for breakfast which didn't put the world to rights but was delicious anyway and then we set off on a trip to the Middle Atlas.
We saw a curious faux Swiss mountain village where rich people retire to when it is uncomfortably hot, mile after mile of olive groves and small farms where folk labour to eke out a living with simple tools, a cedar forest where there were Barbary Apes and the air was cool and fresh. And finally we came to a Berber town called Azrou where the streets and houses were painted in ice cream colours and ordinary life was going on.